


On The Outside, Looking In

by shiv_roy



Category: DCU
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Porn with Feelings, but this is a superbat fic, there's a slight focus on batlantern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27476386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiv_roy/pseuds/shiv_roy
Summary: There are new bruises covering Bruce's thighs.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 26
Kudos: 192





	On The Outside, Looking In

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, this is a superbat work, so Hal might be out of character. Actually, Hal might definitely be out of character. I have no idea what he's like, but I have a slight obsession with how different dynamics work with different people in romantic capacities. I like to multiship. I do still have a preference to Bruce and Clark, they have some soulmate shit going on. 
> 
> Unbetad, even though I've edited it myself. Please feel free to point out any typos/incoherencies, it would be a big help.
> 
> (edit) WARNING: like this is very much superbat but contains batlantern, like it says on the can. dont read it if you aren't into like, nuance in general

Hal has pulled some strings to be here at the gala. He loves to see Bruce's face go all plain, a sure sign that he's hiding his expression. Hal offers him a smirk, a sarcastic salute with his flute of champagne and waits but an hour passes and Bruce doesn't approach him. And then he gets tired and has to interrupt because Bruce isn't making the first move tonight. He seems to be in a staring match with Lex Luthor from across the room, a scowl that's no Brucie and all Batman making his face dark.

It's hot, and Hal finds his cock starting to stir with anticipation. There's such a huge effort in Bruce's glare that he doesn't even notice Hal till he's at his elbow. That's okay, because he likes when Bruce is intense. 

Hal sneaks a finger down his elbow, dipping it suggestively in the crook where Bruce's arm folds, leans in with a leer, "You wanna get out of here?"

Bruce turns the glare on him, although it's much milder than the one he'd fixed Luthor with. Hal is glad. He doesn't know how Luthor has managed to level it for so long.

"Why are you here?" he snaps. "God, as if Luthor wasn't enough."

"Jesus, I was just going to offer to blow you," Hal says with a glare of his own. "I don't even want to be here."

Bruce takes a look at him, then a double take that's slower and Hal feels a rush of vindication. Feels his lips slant automatically by Bruce's gaze on the shirt that's too tight on his chest, the pants that bunch up a little at his hips. Then Bruce grabs him by the bicep in a grip that's so tight it hurts, and drags him away from the main hall and into the men's room that's very much far away from the party. Bruce doesn't waste a moment in locking the door and pushing Hal against it and assaulting his mouth. The kiss is hot, and Bruce licks into his mouth like he's determined to map it out. It's positively lewd. Hal likes when Bruce gets single minded like this. And it's not like they've done this a lot at all, but it's addicting.

Their suit jackets are lost almost immediately. Hal pulls Bruce's shirt out of his slacks and is rewarded with a moan-like sound that makes him flatten his palms against the lines and muscles of Bruce's abdomen, and Jesus, he's hard already. Bruce has moved his focus from Hal's mouth to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses, sucking a hickey. Hal can't help but groan at the slight pain when Bruce digs his teeth back in a place he's already abused. Bruce's hands contradict his mouth, exploring lazily, rubbing at Hal's nipples through his shirt. Hal's hips rock up involuntarily and he suppresses a sound that's sure to come out as a whimper, feels Bruce's grin against his collar bone.

He can feel Bruce's erection against his thigh by now, and he slides his hand between them, one hand starting to work on Bruce's expensive leather belt while the other cups his cock through the silk trousers. Hal can feel the heat of it radiating out and he almost wants to tear the fabric and get it off. He chucks the belt away and pushes Bruce away and onto the wall, sinking to his knees in front. He's about to yank Bruce's slacks and boxers away when Bruce makes a strangled gasp that's nothing like the sounds Hal's managed to drive out of him yet. It also feels slightly abortive; Bruce's hands that were roaming in his hair have settled firmly on his shoulders, and his eyes are blown but there's a different shade on his face that's- that's guilty, almost. Hal yanks the boxers down anyways and there is Bruce's cock in all its glory and all Hal wants is to get as far down his throat as he can and then he sees it. There are new bruises covering Bruce's thighs.

Correction: there are bruises on Bruce's thighs in the exact places Hal had sucked them, except they're deeper, darker, scarred and half healed and there's more of them, like someone laying claim to Bruce's skin. It's mind-blowingly ridiculous that there's a bruise- Hal remembers- for every single mark he's made on Bruce's body last time they saw each other- it's on Bruce's thighs and hips and on his abdomen. One or two stray ones on his chest and neck. Thin, long, scratches of nails ending on the sides of his ribcage.

"Jesus," Hal breathes, because there isn't much to say. They stay that way, Hal on his knees in front of Bruce, trying to take in the red and blue and purple blooming on Bruce's skin. Hal holds up a finger and touches the worst one and Bruce hisses but his cock twitches. He hasn't been sure, but well, Hal had suspected he wasn't the only person Bruce was fucking, but he sure as hell didn't expect someone jealous. He figured if it was anyone like Selina Kyle, they wouldn't mind Bruce fucking someone else, but this feels different. This feels like Bruce's body was already someone else's, and Hal has defiled it, and whoever Bruce is fucking is taking it back.

"Hal..." Bruce says. His voice is rough with sex and it makes Hal's dick even harder. He caresses the bruises gently and leans down to kiss the inside of Bruce's thigh, nudging his legs apart gently. He kisses but doesn't suck, doesn't even open his mouth until it's on Bruce's cock and Bruce lets out a long moan. He raises one hand to cup Bruce's balls and the other one to cover what his mouth can't and begins sucking.

Bruce's cock is hot and heavy and throbbing in his mouth and he smells like his cologne and sweat and Hal takes him in until he's nosing the hair at the base of it. He only has to squeeze Bruce's ass once, lightly, for Bruce to begin fucking his mouth in earnest. He looks up and straight into Bruce's eyes and swallows when he comes, removing his mouth with a pop. It's filthy, he knows and moves to wipe it but Bruce hauls him up into a kiss, flipping them so he's pressed up against the wall and his erection is painful on Bruce's thigh. Bruce pushes his hand down Hal's pants and Hal's dick is already wet and leaking, and Bruce's hand is just the right amount of rough so no one can blame him for coming in less than a minute. Sex with Bruce is always good. Bruce holds him against the wall as he rides out his orgasm, mouthing at his neck while Hal recovers, and when his knees are stable enough, leans away and takes his hands off Hal and Hal almost leans back into Bruce's warmth but doesn't. Can't.

Hal stands up straighter clumsily, thinking he might've found the whole bruise thing hot if not for Bruce's general demeanor around it and the pure hostility he could feel radiating from those hickeys, like they were made with anger. Bruce pulls up his boxers and tucks his dick in neatly, and pulls on his slacks, picks up his jacket that's hanging over the hand dryer and leaves, and Hal starts to see it for what it is: Bruce was, is making someone hurt. Bruce wanted to make someone hurt, or wanted to make a show of something, and Hal had happened to be there. It hurts just a little bit more than he thought it would.

And then as the blood recirculates back from his dick to his brain and he gains more clarity, it still doesn't make sense. Who is Bruce sleeping with? Hal knows Bruce doesn't fuck around. He doesn't really want to take those risks with a civilian, if his past relationships are anything to go by: Talia al Ghul and Selina Kyle are both powerful women who can definitely take care of themselves. Hal ponders on this and decides he'll pay attention because if it's someone from the Justice League, this isn't going to end well for any of them, and Bruce will never tell him, so Hal is going to have to look at who looks at Bruce and who Bruce looks at and who Bruce touches.

The problem is, Bruce has never allowed a lot of people to touch him anyways and so Hal has always looked, always wanted to touch Bruce, who was so untouchable. So once when he was being particularly bitchy and when Bruce had dragged him out of the Monitor Room and taken him to one of the rooms they had on the Watchtower, he'd complied. He'd happily gone on his knees and sucked bruises on Bruce's thighs and then Bruce had said _no,_ when he went deeper with his mouth on Bruce's cock, and scratched at the back of Bruce's legs. Bruce had said _no, I want you to pin me down and fuck yourself on my cock,_ and well. Hal had never come harder in his life.

Hals jacket has ended up on one of the sinks. He splashes some water on his face before collecting it and leaving the gala, wondering if he can look at his teammates in the eye while deciding if they're fucking the Batman.

\---

The next meeting, Bruce ignores him. Hal looks every single person in the eye to decide if they're fucking Bruce. So far, he's ruled out Barry, Arthur, J'onn, along with most of the others. He's staring contemplatively at Constantine when Superman calls the meeting to order.

"So first- we're going to need a very solid, foolproof plan, or set of rules for the meta humans who keep trying to join the Justice League-"

Hal tunes him out, turning back to Constantine. He's watching Superman contemplatively, scratching his stubble. It's certainly attractive, but Hal can't imagine Bruce wanting to fuck someone who says "wanker" in real life. Besides, he seems to be holding Zatanna's hand under the table. That rules both of them out. Hal moves on then to Hawkman, who's seated beside Constantine, and starts sizing him up and it's an immediate no-

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Batman says in his monotone, no nonsense voice. Superman turns to him with some annoyance, because Batman clearly isn't sorry to interrupt. If he was, he wouldn't have interrupted, because that's just how Batman is. "But this can be dealt with later. We don't even have to handle this firsthand. I think we should discuss Lex Luthor's suspicions transactions and the fact that he seems to have acquired _more_ Kryptonite-"

"Supergirl and I are dealing with it," Superman interrupts him. "If we need help, we'll ask for it. I don't have any sort of reservations in doing that. The moment things go even a little bit sideways, the League will know." It's a dig at Bruce, whose jaw has tightened in an angry way.

Hal frowns. Superman sounds cold, but in his patent sincere, polite way. There's something wrong, but Hal hasn't ever been concerned with inner League politics. Instead, he turns to Diana, who's watching the exchange tensely. She's certainly got that strong sort of personality that Bruce prefers, and he feels like she's more than capable of handling a relationship with someone like Bruce, but the way she watches Bruce is almost worried. Very unlike someone who would mark up their man in a fit of jealousy without worrying about bruising them.

Unless, of course, Bruce liked that sort of thing. He certainly seemed interested in it the other day. Or rather, his cock had.

But no- it's not Diana.

Finally, Hal's crossed off everyone in the room and is trying to think of other options, bored. Up at the head of the table, Batman and Superman look like they're having a staring match. Hal is almost interested in who will win. Almost.

"Alright," Diana stands up. "I think we've all been a little wound up since the last attack on the Hall of Justice. I think we should reconvene later next week." The attack was three months ago. Diana is a good peacemaker. 

"We can't take breathers like this," Batman says, not breaking his eyes from Superman still. "It just gives people like Luthor a head start."

"Supergirl and I have it under control," Superman says slowly, as if talking to a child. "But you know what, why don't you take over the case, since you're so interested in it?"

"Thank you," Bruce says sincerely, "for understanding why putting the most important person for the League on a case that involves the one thing in the universe that could kill them is a bad idea."

"You forget that he gets the Kryptonite from Smallville. The place I was raised in and have intimate knowledge of."

Hal tunes them out again. He wishes it would end already so he could corner Bruce on some secluded part of the Watchtower and hopefully get to properly fuck him tonight.

"Batman, Superman," Diana says in her Wonder Woman voice. "You will work this out separately. This will not be discussed here, where it isn't relevant to remaining League activities. We will meet next week again. Adjourned."

Hal pushes his chair away from the table almost faster than Barry. He figures he'll head over to the gym. On his way, J'onn falls in step beside him.

"Green Lantern," he says.

"Oh, hey John," Hal gives him a nod and is confused for a second before he remembers J'onn can read minds.

"Um," he starts. "Look, I-"

"I don't read people's thoughts," he interrupts. "But today, you were particularly loud with certain... observations you were making. Would you like to join me in a session of meditation? It would teach you how to close off your thoughts from basic mind reading techniques."

Hal isn't embarrassed. He doesn't get embarrassed. But he thinks he's ashamed that J'onn had to hear that. His offer for the session is nonetheless humiliating and Hal accepts almost immediately, because this is the most polite way anyone could be asked to shut up. Some three hours later, he's almost asleep with a figurative wall inside his head. At least J'onn can't see him dream now.

"I'm sorry for keeping you so long," J'onn says. His tone is mild and polite as always but there's something about the dry look he gives Hal that suggests he isn't sorry at all. "It is late. I should get going." He promptly melts down through the Watchtower floor, leaving Hal to scoff and continue on his way to the boom tubes. He's really thinking about getting some takeout, maybe watch something on tv when he hears something from the conference room. He moves towards the short hallway, and pushes the door open the slightest bit, muscles tightening in anticipation of a fight. There isn't a fight happening, though. It's Batman and Superman, arguing in hushed tones.

It's none of his business, really, but Hal leans forward.

"-smell him on you," Clark is saying, voice low, angry, heated in way Hal wouldn't ever have expected from him. Bruce has is cowl off and is staring away at the floor. Then Clark does something completely unexpected and takes a hold of Bruce's chin and tilts it till their eyes meet. Hal's heart has picked up pace and he hopes like hell that Clark is focused enough on Bruce not to notice. Clark pushes Bruce against the edge of the table, keeping his hold on Bruce's chin. Bruce looks like he can't process anything and lets it happen, lets Clark lean in, slowly, till there's the ghost of Clark's lips against his.

"How dare you?" Clark says, almost disgustedly, and presses his mouth against Bruce. Hal's cock gives a twitch of interest because he hadn't even considered the possibility that Superman could be gay and fucking Bruce and being as jealous as Hal suspects he is. Clark grabs the back of Bruce's thighs with both hands and pushes him onto the table and Bruce gives an obscene sort of moan, the kind Hal has never managed to elicit from him. Clark is kissing Bruce furiously, feverishly, like it's the only thing in the world. Hal tightens his grip on the door as Clark leans in, father and farther, pushing till Bruce is laid on the table with Clark between his knees. He starts to work on Bruce's utility belt with swift ease and pulls it down, along with Bruce's pants and Bruce is already hard, cock curved toward his stomach, pinkish along the length, slightly wet and Hal's own cock is starting to fill up, his pants uncomfortably tight.

"How dare you?" Clark says again, staring at the bruises of his own creation but seeing something else. He puts a hand on the head of Bruce's dick, making him gasp. Once again, in way Hal never thought Bruce could.

"He- God- he didn't even-" Bruce starts, but Clark squeezes and Bruce moans like he can't make sentences any longer and Hal belatedly realizes they're talking about him. Clark is stroking Bruce at an almost lazy pace, slow enough to be teasing.

"Good for him he didn't," Clark says decidedly. "Not for you, though. I'm going to fuck you and not touch your cock once and you're going to come from that. You're going to cum on my cock or you're not going to come at all." And just like that, Hal is already an afterthought to him.

Bruce makes a strangled sort of whine as Clark steps back, and tries, breathlessly, "That's not as much of a punishment as you think it is." Clark ignores him, fishing around Bruce's utility belt and taking out a small bottle of lube and a condom. Hal is fully hard now, because Bruce's voice sounds so rough, so fucked out already.

"Look at this," Clark says at the lube and condom. "You were already waiting for this. Do you keep this on you for if you ever run into me? If I decide to drop into Gotham. You probably get off at thought of being fucked in a Gotham alleyway don't you."

Bruce has propped himself up on his elbows and Clark pushes him down again, popping off the cap and slicking two fingers. Hal wonders if he could get away with touching himself here.

Clark moves his fingers along the crease of Bruce's ass and Hal can't see that much but he can pinpoint the moment he pushes inside of Bruce, because Bruce whines- whines- and squirms around Clark's fingers, who looks so practiced doing it and suddenly, it's not just Bruce's sounds that are sending blood to Hal's cock.

Clark bends over while slowly fingering Bruce, Bruce's small moans getting more and more desperate. It's like he's taking Bruce apart, step by step. He's sucking on Bruce's nipple, teasing it, and Bruce grabs on to Clark's hands, grip so tight it would hurt if not bruise if Clark was not invulnerable.

"More," Bruce manages to beg and Clark stands up and sheds his suit with single minded intent, rolling the condom on so fast Hal can't even track the movement and suddenly he's pushing into Bruce, who grunts but then presses back and Hal knows the image is going to be prime jack off material for years. Clark fucks him with rhythmic snaps of his hips, shifting and changing angles till he hits Bruce's prostate. That much is clear from the hiss Bruce makes, the total bliss that takes on his face a moment later, and Clark asks Bruce who he belongs to and fucks him into begging mess, chanting you, you, you, Clark, there's no one else, and has him come untouched, like he promised before.

Hal leaves then, because Clark would come to his super senses when he finished and that would be a conversation he does not want to have.

He boom-tubes and flies back to his apartment at almost superhuman speed and jacks off furiously, and if Clark stars in his fantasies this time too, no one has to know.

\---

It's decidedly not healthy, what Bruce is doing. Fucking Hal while he fucks Superman, that is. He tries to find him alone but Clark always seems to be in a proximity and Hal hasn't been able to look him in the eye ever since he saw them. He wonders if it matters at all that Bruce is alone and away from Clark, what with his super hearing. But this is frustrating. It's not that he was expecting a relationship out of Bruce, but if he's going play mistress while Bruce has whatever the hell it is with Clark, he'd like to know he isn't going to be Lantern Chow because he made goddamn Superman the worst level of angry: jealous.

He'd be lying if he said it didn't tempt him. The thought of making Superman jealous gives him a power trip. Still, it's been two weeks now and Bruce has avoided Hal like Hal has avoided Clark. Then again, it's not like Clark is looking to talk to him. He ignores Hal no more than usual, and maybe there's a sharp hint to his gaze when he looks at him but that doesn't do anything except make Hal blush like a schoolgirl. Look- Hal has a thing with authority, and Superman certainly has authority. And he certainly, most definitely has Bruce. Hal isn't trying to compete. He's just trying to know how far he can push this and how interesting he can make it, and if pushing will result in Superman making his life hell. He supposes Superman wouldn't do that, because it's too unfair and Clark has always been about cats stuck in trees. But still.

When Bruce calls the next meeting to an end and asks if anyone has anything else they'd like to ask or share, Hal raises his hand up. Everyone turns to him because he sort of doesn't have any major League cases going right now.

"I saw something weird when I was patrolling the sector last night," he says. "Could be important, but I don't want to waste anyone's time right now, so can we discuss it later?" Nothing like getting someone to agree on something in front of a public. Then they can't refuse if you ask them for the thing in front of said public. Bruce presses his lips into a thin, firm line and Hal wonders how they look so thin and disdainful now but look pink and flushed and plump when they've been kissed. He avoids Superman's eye again, but he isn't even paying attention; he's updating Diana on something and asking her about a report. Hal almost breathes in relief as he approaches Bruce, all patent Bat-scowl as he shuffles papers around.

Clark throws him a look, looks him up and down and goes back to ignoring him. Them. Whatever. Hal doesn't know what to make of it. In all honesty, he wouldn't be opposed to propositioning Clark, but he's a one woman man. One man man. He's committed, and that's a shame. Soon as he's alone with Bruce in one of the smaller mission interference rooms and Bruce pushes him against the door.

"There's nothing going on. I was on monitor duty last night. There's nothing going on in our sector of space," he says. Hal wonders where the threat it. "So spill." There it is. Hal pushes him off and if he uses assistance from the ring... no one has to know.

"We need to talk, Bruce."

"Look at you, being all mature," Bruce says bitterly. It's sort of funny how his professional veneer slips away when you've fucked him. "There's nothing to talk about. You and I were a one time-two time thing."

"Is that what you told yourself when you started fucking Clark?" Hal asks, almost sneering because Bruce is getting on his nerves with his superiority complex. Sure enough, Bruce looks almost alarmed for about half a second before he masks it. Hal continues, "I had a meditation thing and stayed back and I heard you two going at it while leaving."

"You don't meditate," Bruce snaps. "Just admit you were spying on me."

"Not everything's about you, good lord!" Hal tries to keep his voice low. He did end up doing the meditation because he was having loud, inappropriate thoughts and J'onn heard but that's not the point. He wasn't keeping tabs on Bruce.

"Look," he tries to say plainly. "I liked having sex with you. It was amazing. But if I'm going to have Superman on my case because you're fucking him on the side, it's not gonna work out."

Bruce takes a pause. "He won't do that. We don't- whoever- whatever I do when I'm not with him is between me and him. It won't affect you." It's a weird statement. What Bruce does in his free time is... his and Clark's business? Either Bruce and Clark are in an open relationship, or well Hal doesn't know, and doesn't want to guess. He nods and then leaves the room, even though his brain tells him he could've stayed, kissed Bruce. Just as he's out though, he hears Bruce say, "I don't _fuck_ him. God, I wish I just fucked him." And Hal doesn't know what to make of it, except that understanding that is above his paygrade.

When he reenters the League kitchen, Barry drags him to the table almost immediately, where a group has formed.

"We're taking bets!" he says cheerfully. Sure enough, neither Bruce nor Diana are around to reprimand them for unprofessional behavior. It's a lost cause anyways.

"What are we betting on?" Hal asks, sitting down.

"Batman has taken on the Luthor case, and Superman hasn't dropped it. We're betting on who will get to it first," Arthur explains. "You have to have to enter 50 bucks minimum."

Hal frowns. "Fifty's steep."

Arthur smirks. "This is a serious bet."

"I've put seventy bucks on the Supers. Because come on, Superman _and_ Supergirl? That's the most powerful team up," Barry says.

Zatanna, who's apparently bet on Batman gives him a dry look. "So we're ignoring the possibilities of the very large amount of Kryptonite that is sure to be present in here? I'm putting down a hundred. That's fifty from me and fifty from Selina." Hal's head snaps up at the Selina mention, but he can't ask about how Zatanna knows Selina without it being weird though, so he shuts up.

"Don't include Rogues," Arthur frowns. He's the one writing everything down. "Last time, the betting pool spread to one of the kids groups. Batman almost had everyone's head because his kid bet a thousand dollars on a League mission status."

"Well, put me down for Batman. How about a hundred?" Hal says. Arthur rolls his eyes and decides to take the out, but Zatanna shoots him a grateful look. Never let it be said that Hal isn't chivalrous.

\---

By the time the next meeting rolls around, Hal has made a decision to study Bruce and Clark, because he has developed a morbid sort of curiosity for it. Also because he's directly involved, since he's fucked Bruce and everything. Diana opens the meeting and Hal can't see Bruce because he's seated on the same side of the table as him, and said table is long and craning is just straight weird. He's intrigued, not desperate. He still can watch Clark though, and he has to say he's most interested in him, the way his behavior changes so drastically when alone with Bruce. 

It's just that he's so Superman, outside of Bruce. Superman, with the bright smile, rogue curl and firm posture, Superman who helps anyone and everyone and rescues cats out of trees, like nothing's beneath him, Superman, who calls you "Ma'am," and "Sir," as he pulls you out of harm's way, Superman who's so picture perfect people fantasize him as having a secret wife and two-point-five kids and a dog. It _would_ probably be the case if he had continued to date that reporter girlfriend of his, but he isn't married nor dating as far as Hal knows. Unless you count what he has with Bruce, the definition which Hal is trying to decide here. (Although, there would be way more than two kids if Bruce was involved in any way.)

Bottom-line is, Superman is a standard. There isn't one respectable person he knows that doesn't like Superman. He talks to the kid heroes like they're on the same level as him- they most definitely aren't, Hal has seen first hand how Superman is, both in battle and outside of it. It's inspiring, Hal has to admit. There were times he'd looked up to and tried to model himself after the guy, but it was long ago and Clark tended to have that effect on people and some of it was partly hero worship. 

But the cover had fallen away. Not that he knew anything about Clark intimately at all, but... Clark is tired. Hal can see that in the rings under his eyes, how his posture changes slightly sometimes when he thinks no one's looking. He has crinkles by his eyes because of premature stress-caused aging but goes out to look after Metropolis every night, still. He is a little tired, and more human than a lot of humans Hal knows. He is the guy who gave his everything for a planet that wasn't his. And now, Hal knows, he's the guy that found pleasure and home in Bruce Wayne's arms. 

Hal snaps out of his reverie and realizes he's been staring unseeingly at Clark, who's giving him a questioning look. That there's no malice in there speaks volumes and yes, Hal relaxes at that, but honestly? He thinks Clark should be allowed. He should be angry at Hal, because Hal slept with his man more than once and is willing to do it again, even though he knows about them. It's just sex for him. He doesn't know if it's just sex for Clark, but he has a hunch about it.

He turns back to Diana and her report because this observation thing clearly isn't working today.

\---

There's aliens on earth again. Hal had been the one to send out the first alerts, and everyone's strung up and wary. The aliens, when they finally manage to arrange for translators, turn out to be friendly and want to extend goodwill and encourage friendly relations. Bruce scowls. He's right, of course, because these could very well be the next big pain in the League's ass, but he's also tiring with his cynicism. He stays at the Watchtower and Hall of Justice more often than not and consumes more coffee than Hal has seen anyone take in a day. Clark and Diana are swamped with meetings upon meetings, trying to find suitable accommodations, dealing with every government and political power that wants a piece of the alien action, because Batman can't be trusted to show face and smile politely and shake hands. Hal knows everyone's working their ass off. It's just that Bruce hasn't slept in three days and Clark hasn't even been out of the suit in a week. When he gets to the Watchtower, he either studies up the alien language in one of the rooms, or goes over one of the hundreds of peace treaties the United Nations has drafted up.

On one of the following days, Hal is handling Monitor duty because someone has to, and everything seems generally in order. There's a UN convention that is going on, and Superman is invited, but doesn't show. It starts a sort of confusion, because it isn't like Superman to not show up to official invitations, especially when it concerns alien contact. He doesn't find out until the afternoon that Lex Luthor apparently finally made his move and Superman is suddenly being rushed into the med bay with Kryptonite lodged in his side and head and an array of doctors around him. Hal almost stands up as he watches it on the screen with bated breath. They pull him into an Operation Theatre and there are no security cams there, so Hal is in the dark.

His first thought is Bruce. Bruce had gone back to Gotham earlier that day, either probably satisfied that the aliens didn't mean harm, or to put every security measure he knew of in place in Gotham. Even now, Gotham came before everything. Hal makes his calls, and Diana says she will inform Bruce and Hal is glad it isn't him. He doesn't know how Bruce will react, but he suspects it won't be good. 

He does the very next day though, because headlines of the FBI suing Luthor and LexCorp for 600 million dollars for possession and malicious use of Kryptonite have taken over every media source, proof of which they apparently got from some anonymous and untraceable source. Go figure.

Two days later, Clark is still unconscious and Hal decides to go see him, because everyone else has. It's close to midnight and when Hal enters the room, he sees Bruce sans cowl, gazing at Clark with such a troubled look on his face and his finger curled between Clark's. He's been here every night. Hal has seen the cams, and people talk. This is far from the first time Clark has gotten hurt. It probably won't be the last. The only thought that comes ti mind is that Bruce loves silently, quietly, in a way Hal doesn't think he'd notice, had Bruce's affection strayed his way. Bruce is complicated and repressed, but he's loving, and Hal has to voice it.

"You love him," Hal says to Bruce. Bruce doesn't look away from Clark, as if looking away will physically tear Clark away from him. "I haven't noticed, but you probably always get like this any time he's hurt, don't you?"

Bruce is silent for so long Hal begins to think he hasn't heard him.

"I can't not," he says finally, just as Hal's about to leave.

"Why me?" Hal asks, and Bruce looks up, fingers tightening around Clark's.

"Because why not?" Bruce asks back, and it's like Hal suspected at the start. There wasn't anything to come out of him and Bruce. He was just a warm body. Hal doesn't like betraying his emotions or any of the like, but just because it's someone invulnerable and super-powered, he asks Bruce:

"Does it... does he hurt you?" and Bruce laughs at that, sitting down on a chair and pulling Clark's arm as he does so.

"No," Bruce says. "No, if you're asking because of the bruises. I like the pain. I asked him to do it. And... I think I've been stupid and hurt him more than he could every hurt me."

His way of asking Clark to leave a scar on him was to ask someone else to do it first. Talk about fucked up. But it's really not any of his business, and he's seen and meddled more than he cares.

"Well, I have a bet to cash in on," Hal says, ricking on the balls on his feet. "And am I to expect hand-holding or defiling the Justice League conference table again when the Man of Steel gets up?"

"You're insufferable," Bruce deadpans, and Hal laughs and turns to leave. Between us, he's personally hoping for hand holding.

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you liked it. 
> 
> edit: sorry for the rude warning on top but someone left a sort of rude bookmark despite it saying batlantern in the ships tag and like im not with that type of energy at all. i wish i could block them but you cant on ao3 i guess. the rest of the comments/bookmarks have made my day multiple times though, and i love you all <3
> 
> ps: if you get the 600 million dollars reference please hit me up


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